A Night at the Library
by Lilian
Summary: Ami & Zoisite, caught in a snowstorm in the campus library. Sparks fly. And a night neither of them will ever forget. A/Z
1. Chapter 1

Title: _A Night at the Library _(Chapter 1)

Author: Lilian

Rating: This chapter is probably T, later ones will be M.

Disclaimer: Not mine. But I do think they are happier after I'm done playing with them.

Author's Note: this story was originally written several years ago, and up until today, it lived in the Shitennou community in LJ. I've decided to start uploading my stories to this ff dot net account as well. If you've never read this before, please come into my Ami/Zoisite parlor. If you HAVE read it before, please take this opportunity to re-discover it, if you wish.

Please tell me what you think, I love hearing from my readers!

For Thalia. My A/Z muse.

.

* * *

Ami Mizuno was bored. Inexplicably, unequivocally bored. 'I'll-even-let-Minako-play-with-my-hair' bored. Which was the only reason why she left her comfortable, well-worn desk and moved deeper into the library. Outside, the wind howled and raged, snowflakes falling from the dark sky. If she was one to indulge in such fantasies - which she wasn't - she might've believed that she was the only woman left on the planet, a stranded soul inside a library, protected by steel and glass from the swaying moods of Mother Nature.

"I bet Makoto is having a blast with this storm", she muttered to herself, then promptly hushed as the empty stalls and bookshelves amplified her voice a dozen times. It was Saturday night, a time spent by most university students drinking and partying and generally pretending they didn't have to turn in that term paper on Monday. Which all fine and good with her, if it meant she could have the humongous, awe-inspiring library all to herself. A gift to the university by one alumnus or other, it was a monument to modern times: steel sculptures and glass panes from ceiling to floors littered every hallway, and the well-lit work stations positively beamed with promise. At first, Ami had been a little reticent about such modernity in a place of knowledge—weren't books meant to be kept in cozy, small rooms for easier reach, after all? But after a few days spent in the new addition to campus, she had come to realize that the giant steel building actually felt like home. That had been a year ago, and now she had her own favorite station, right on the eastern corner of the second floor, and she couldn't imagine studying anywhere else.

She had never had any trouble concentrating before, so what was the problem now? She couldn't really say. There was something tickling at the back of her senses, an awareness she had never quite experienced before. So she rose from her desk and roamed the empty halls, listening to the soft, rhythmic sounds of her footsteps reverberate all around her. How many incredibly minds would one day go through this walls? Would the next Nobel Prize lean against this wall right here, or stop for a look outside right there? Would people, many years from now, look inside these halls and wonder, just as she was now, about those who had come before them?

Shaking her head, she smiled. Now wasn't she just being a tad bit too melodramatic? What had gotten into her?

The smile was still curling her lips when she first smelled it. It was a faint trace lingering in the air, barely a ghost of a scent, but she caught it anyway. Most likely because it was not supposed to be there—there was an absolute, and strictly enforced, no-smoking policy inside the building, and yet there it was, the bitter, nicotinic smell of cigarettes. Curiosity - and concern for her precious books - prompted her to follow the smell, and as she traveled down the stairs and into the main floor, it only got stronger. She caught sight of the night guard's station; John was nowhere to be seen. Was he making rounds? There was no way he was the one smoking; triple bypass notwithstanding, he shared Ami's love for books and would be as adamant as the library director to usher smokers away. The lights of the main hall were dimmed, an unspoken reminder both to remain silent and of how late it really was, so she tried to make out shapes in the semi-twilight. The clock read half past ten, Ami noticed, her eyes scanning the hall for the source of the smoke. It was the orange glow of a lit cigarette that revealed the culprit.

Zachary Ward, her quick mind provided, genius and rebel extraordinaire. Not only was he in most of her advanced classes, managing to match or beat her at every single opportunity he could, but he was also in Rei's Western Philosophers class. Which meant he was either an overachiever or really, really smart. He was quite a sight, Ami had to admit, letting her eyes roam all over his sleek form. Tall, but not overtly so, and slender, he had the most amazing set of green eyes she had ever seen on anyone, and the most glorious head of hair to boot. Truth to be told, she was a little jealous of his casual beauty, which only served to irritate her a little more. She had never quite know what it was about Zachary that made her lose control like that; he wasn't the first one to beat her scores or to outshine her in class. No, it was something else. He was just so—so indolent about everything. Ami was a firm believer in hard work and in applying oneself to everything, but Zachary somehow seemed to break the rules of her tidy little world.

Which was why, when she saw him breaking yet another rule, something in her snapped.

"You're not supposed to be smoking in here."

Her voice came out a little harder than she had intended, and when he turned those eyes towards her, she felt the beginnings of a blush on her cheeks. Thanking the dim lightning, she met his gaze head on, staring accusingly at the cigarette in his hand. He blinked lazily, drawing her attention to those impossibly long eyelashes of his, and shrugged. "Have you looked outside, princess?"

She already had, and yet her eyes were still drawn towards the double glass doors keeping the inclement weather at bay. It was a full-blow snowstorm now, snowflakes falling so thick that it was hard to make out the park that lay just outside the walls. She forced her eyes back to him, keeping her frown in place. "Yes, I have. And still, there's no smoking in the building for a reason."

He took a drag off the offending cigarette, as if daring her to do anything about it. Ami had always disliked smokers—the smell of nicotine clinging to clothes and skin was too strong for her, leaving a bitter taste on the back of her mouth that took hours to fade. And yet now, watching his lips puff and blow a perfect ring of smoke, she felt a sudden tightening of her belly she hadn't felt in quite a while. She shook her head slightly. She wasn't going to let his charm and charisma woo her like it did everyone else. Hardening her resolve by sheer strength of will, she tried again: "Would you please put that out?"

Zachary seemed amused by her insistence. Pushing himself off of the pillar he was leaning against, he held the stub on one hand carefully, eyeing it and her with a strange look. "Why?" She blinked, surprised. Couldn't he read the signs? There was one right behind him, even, in red lettering and white background, asking people to please refrain from smoking within the building or even on the stairs outside. "Because—because it's wrong! It's against the rules!"

The smile that curled his lips was predatory, the kind you don't expect to see on people at midnight in an empty library with John the night guard nowhere in sight. Ami took a single step back, not because she was afraid, but because she feared what she might do if he kept smiling at her like that. "And do you always follow the rules, princess?"

She ignored the nickname - twice already he'd called her that, when she knew for a fact he knew her name - and nodded. "Yes, I do." It seemed to be the answer he had been waiting for, because his smile turned even wider. His coat - leather, she noted, and completely ridiculous in such weather but dear God didn't it look gorgeous on him? - moved with him as he strode closer and Ami had the sudden thought that it would be very nice to be covered in it. Preferably with him inside as well. And wasn't that the strangest thought? Maybe that double mocha latte she had had about four hours ago was finally kicking in, because for the life of her she couldn't explain the sudden, animal attraction she felt towards him otherwise.

"What are you doing?"

The question came out quick and high-pitched, the butterflies in her stomach making it hard to think. God, what was happening? And why was he so close? And why wasn't she afraid? Her spidey sense - Senshi instinct, she corrected herself, still fighting a losing battle against Minako's choice of codenames for their abilities - wasn't going off, so he wasn't a threat to her... and yet everything in her that was a woman was saying that he was. Not in the 'dark, foggy alley, footsteps in the night' kind of way, but more of a 'come here and ravage me senseless' kind of way. Which, when she thought about it, scared her even more.

He shrugged again, a graceful rolling of his shoulders that did all kinds of interesting things to his shirt. It gaped open just the tiniest bit, revealing the skin of his collarbone, and she swallowed past the gulp of her throat. "Nothing," he answered her, and he was close enough that she could smell him now, a clean mixture of aftershave, leather and mint, "not yet, anyway." There was a promise in his words, something she didn't pause to consider lest she take him up on it. Instead, she focused on the still lighted cigarette, now in close proximity, and fed her confusion into anger.

"That", she said, taking the stub from him with a quick move and putting it out on the nearby trashcan, "is close enough." He didn't seem surprised at her move, just deeply amused. He gave the rapidly fading embers one last look and then turned those green cat eyes back to her. "Now look what you've done", he began, approaching her slowly. "I have nothing to entertain myself with now." Ami shivered, his tone of voice an overt promise of—of something. Without even realizing it, she began backing away, mirroring every step he took with one of her own. It was all quite ridiculous, said a voice in her head, but it was quickly drowned by the intense lust burning in his pupils. He was offering her something, and Ami feared what her answer may be. Which is why she turned on her heel, ready to flee, and almost slammed into John. She shrieked, a girly, embarrassing noise, and Zachary chuckled behind her.

"Scaring the patrons again, Zachary?" John asked, a grandfatherly smile on his face as he made sure Ami was properly back on her feet before releasing her. Ami's back was still turned, so she didn't see Zach answer, but John clucked his tongue in response. "I swear to God, kid, if you were my grandson…" He let his words trail off, but it was obvious what he meant to say. Ami looked at one man and then at the other, her heartbeat still going a mile a minute, not sure whether to be thankful or regretful that John had showed up when he did.

What would have happened if Zach had caught her instead? When her mind proceeded to provide her with a very detailed, very graphic description of what it wanted Zach to do to her, she shook her head in despair. Great, just great. Not only was she stuck at the library with the mother of all snowstorms blowing outside, but her concentration was shot to hell and her hormones were all over the place.

"You okay, dear?"

Her eyes flew open. John was peering at her, worry written all over his aging face. She nodded slowly at him, appeasing his concern. "I'm fine, John. It's just—it's getting a little late. I think I should go home."

Still behind her, Zachary chuckled again. "Didn't you hear a thing he said, princess? They've declared a total shutdown because of the storm. Buses don't run this late, and I don't think you should be walking outside in this snow. Looks like we're stuck here till tomorrow."

Somehow, he made that last sentence sound incredibly naughty. Ami blushed, hurriedly looked away from his prying gaze, and doing her best to ignore the squeal of delight a small part of her emitted at the news. Seriously, she really needed to stop hanging around Minako if her thoughts were actually going where she thought they were going. "I can make it home—" she started to say, just when a specially strong gust of wind slammed against the windows making them creak and groan under the force of it. Zachary did that thing again, where he eyed her up and down as if sizing her up – or undressing her, she wasn't really quite sure – and said: "You look like a strong breeze might knock you over. A storm like that? Will carry you all the way to Africa before you can even blink."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh yeah? Well I could just transform and—" She fell quiet, horrified at what she had almost said. What was she thinking? She had all but confessed to this annoying, infuriating man who she really was! Luckily for her, John had completely missed her response as he tried to get the phone lines to work. Zachary, however, was still looking at her, one of those perfect eyebrows arched in silent questioning. Struggling for an answer, she amended: "Transfer. I meant transfer to a train down on stop 53."

Before Zach could say anything, though, John returned scratching his head. "Well, it looks like it's just the three of us. I did a run-down of the building just now, and we're the only people here. I have some cots and overnight bags on the storage room, so it shouldn't be too bad. There's also a vending machine on the foyer if you're hungry."

Ami stared at him, blinking slowly. Well, just her luck. Beside her, Zach sighed loudly. "Of all the days to come here, it had to be today," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. John continued: "I radioed the night watch on campus and they said they'll be here as soon as the storm gets better. In the meantime, we should make ourselves comfortable, 'cause it looks like it's going to be hours before that happens."

The idea of spending a couple of hours – or Serenity forbid, the whole night – in a small room with Zachary next to her did all kinds of interesting things to Ami's body. And if there was one thing Ami hated, was not being in control, especially if her own body was concerned. So without a second thought, she stopped John before he could usher them both behind the counter and towards the break room: "Actually, I think I'll study a little bit more. There's no one around, and all this peace and quiet shouldn't go to waste."

John protested, but Ami was certain: if she could actually take all of her hormonal turmoil and focus it on her studies, she should be able to finish at least three more chapters tonight—and if that also meant getting away from Zachary Ward and his distracting come-hither looks, then all the better. With a final pat on John's shoulders, she sent him on his way… and noticed Zach wasn't following him.

"Aren't you going with him?"

Zach shrugged. "Don't feel like sleeping."

Silence fell between them, blanketing the wide open space and letting the muffled sounds of the storm seep through. It was quite a beautiful snowstorm, powerful and raw and primal… and yet the snowflakes fell so gently on the ground, carried by the wind. She could feel the power of the storm, like an invisible weight on the back of her head, ice and water and wind scouring the Earth. Ice was her element, and there was so much amount of it out there that it was like being in the middle of an electric current—a faint buzz, or a pressure of sorts, it was hard to tell. It called to her – snowstorms always did – but she almost always managed to not heed their call. It was a particularly strong summon this time, as the storm recognized her as kin; she was pretty sure the reason the wind gusts kept slamming against the windows was because snow was trying to reach her any way it could.

She sent a faint trickle of power outside, the metaphysical equivalent of patting an eager puppy on the head. The snowflakes falling closest to the window danced in intricate patterns, joyfully acknowledging her presence. She smiled at her thoughts; who would've thought rational, logical Ami Mizuno would ever assign emotions to weather?

"What are you thinking about?"

Zach's voice startled her. Was he still here? She looked at him, standing to her left, and wondered how was it that she had completely forgotten he was still there. He was staring at her with the strangest look on her eyes; wondering and intrigued, as if he had just witnessed something wonderful. She blushed again – something she seemed to do quite a lot whenever he was around – and shrugged.

"Nothing important," she said in the end, when he did not look away. She did, though, the force behind his gaze too much to handle. She almost jumped out of her skin when his fingers cupped her chin and softly lifted it back up. She was too surprised to do anything but comply with the gentle pressure of his touch, and she found herself lost in the green depths of his eyes. How was it that she had never noticed the golden specks in them?

It seemed like an eternity the time they spent staring deep into each other's eyes, but it must've only been a second or so. Zachary was the one who broke contact first, letting his hand fall away from her face. It was all she could do not to lean forward, following that residual warmth. And she was about to do just that, as a matter of fact, when he winked at her and said: "You're hiding something, princess. And I'm going to find out what." With that final remark, he strolled away and disappeared around a corner.

Ami gaped at the spot he had just vacated. What had just happened? Mimicking the mood swing of its mistress, the storm thrashed outside, bewildered. Sending another tendril of magic towards it and feeling it relax, Ami tried to put some order into her chaotic thoughts.

Zachary Ward had some sort of effect on her, that was a given. He irritated her, aroused her and confused her all at once. It was a mixture Ami had never had to deal with, and she was grasping at straws trying to stay afloat. Which irritated her even more, so it was all some sort of weird, backwards cycle that made the beginnings of a headache start pounding behind her eyes.

"Might as well make use of it," she muttered to herself, and made her way towards the second floor.

The light on the desk she had been using was still on, casting its fluorescent light on her books and pens. On any other time, Ami would've considered such a sight a warm and profuse welcome. Instead, it now seemed a cold and bleak march to an unwanted destination. She told herself she was only keeping an eye out to the storm and not looking for Zach when she moved her things towards a desk by the window that, coincidentally, also had a much better view of the staircase. And she played with her hair because it was getting in the way, not because Minako had told her that bangs brought out the blue of her eyes and Ami sort of agreed with that.

She forced herself to read the page in front of her, forced thoughts of mint-colored eyes and a lazy grin out of her mind and focused on books instead. She was so concentrated on concentrating, that she never even noticed when she fell asleep.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Title: _A Night at the Library _(Chapter 2)

Author: Lilian

Rating: NC-17 (yeah, it's smut) :-)

Disclaimer: Not mine. But I do think they are happier after I'm done playing with them.

* * *

She woke up slowly, almost reluctantly. Her conscious mind was trying to tell her something, but for the life of her she couldn't get herself to open her eyes. She was warm, so very warm, and enveloped in the most delicious scent ever. It was warm leather, noted a logical, very much awake part of her brain, but whatever it was that followed that realization was lost as she snuggled closer to—

Wait. She was snuggling? Against what? Last she could remember, she had been sitting on her desk, books strewn around her and pencil in hand, making annotations on the intricacies of heart valves and blood volumes pumped per minute. So how had she gone from that to snuggling against a – she blinked her eyes open lazily – very warm, very soft and –Oh dear Gods, please no – very familiar leather coat?

"Good morning, princess," came a voice from her left. She started, raising back up from where she had lain on the desk, Zach's leather coat fall down to her waist. He sat a chair away from her, a book held in his hands, watching her through a pair of sleek, clearly expensive glasses. They made him look—academic, she forced herself to think, dismissing previous choices of description that ran down the line of 'delicious, 'scrumptious' and 'to-die-for-handsome'.

Her own glasses winked at her from the table, clearly pushed aside as she had fallen asleep. She suddenly wished she was still wearing them, if only to have something to keep that piercing gaze of his from penetrating to the very depths of her soul. She made a move to pick them up, but her fingers tangled with the collar of his coat and she stopped in mid motion.

Oh. So she hadn't dreamt that part, had she? She had really been hoping she had, because if it had all been a figment of her imagination – her very creative, very horny imagination - she could've just pushed it to a deep, dark corner of her mind and pretended it had never happened. But, as her luck would have it, it hadn't been a dream. And so she was now faced with the very embarrassing necessity to face the object of her fantasies. And if that wasn't enough, she was going to have to do it with his coat still wrapped around her.

Sometimes Ami wondered if the universe was out to get her.

Stammering for something to say, and not really realizing she was caressing the soft, worn leather of the coat's sleeve, she said: "I—Well—You didn't have to—" She gave up. Ok, her brain wanted to take a vacation whenever Zach was around? Fine. She was going to speak in short, polite sentences until it decided to come back.

"Thank you."

When he didn't respond, she snuck a peek at him, which was she realized that for some reason, the lights of this particular wing of the library had gone out. However, the small study-lamp on her desk still remained on… she distantly remembered reading on some informative plaque or other that the study lamps and the main lighting were wired to different generators, in case the power went off. But that wasn't what made her breath catch, nor was it the intimate, romantic mood the small light generated. It was actually the hunger in Zachary's eyes. He looked positively ravenous, but for no food Ami could name; it made her ache in places that had no business aching in a library, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. That seemed to break Zach's train of thought, and he blinked slowly, letting the book he was holding fall closed on his lap.

"You looked cold."

His words seemed so out of place after what had transpired – and what, pray tell had actually happened? Ami was dying to know – that it took her a few heartbeats to actually understand it. When she did, a small smile spread across her lips; indeed, the storm outside continued to blow, and now that he had mentioned it, she could feel the glass behind her like a cold brick of ice.

Turning back to face him, she again struggled for something to say. It was hard, for some reason: there was something pulsing between them, some sort of strange attraction that made her palms sweaty and sent her heart racing. She tried not to look at his eyes, some ancient, primal instinct telling her she would not emerge unscathed from the experience, but they beckoned with a power she could not resist. Cat-like eyes, she had called them once – and really, why was she calling his eyes **anything**? – and when their gazes clicked, Ami had to force herself to breathe.

"What—what happened to the lights?"

Her voice sounded low and throaty – was that really her speaking at all? – and he looked behind him, past the stacked bookshelves and into the darkness beyond where the small desk light didn't reach: "They went out about half an hour ago. The power lines must be down."

Or something like that. Ami wasn't really listening to what he was saying, distracted as she was by the suddenly exposed long line of his throat. His collar was still open, and the move had made muscles and tendons ripple in such interesting places she couldn't help but stare. And wonder what his skin tasted like… would it be a terrible thing to do if she would just lean forward and lick at the hollow of his neck?

Horrified at her own forwardness, she shook herself lightly. That was **so** not a road she was walking down on! She was going to seriously consider the possibility that she was possessed by Minako of all people, because Ami Mizuno did **not** wonder if Zachary Ward tasted as good as he looked. No sir, Ami Mizuno was not fantasizing about that.

Needing something to do, and because the cold seeping in from the frozen window was getting to her – that hollowness low on her belly had nothing to do with excited butterflies, she kept telling herself – she pulled the coat back up her shoulders.

Sitting up as she was, she swam in it. Zach wasn't a big man, but he was considerably taller than she was, which made his coat entirely too big on her. But it allowed her to close the edges of the coat around her body, and she did, a small sigh of pleasure escaping through her lips. She welcomed the added layer of distance between her and Zach—the intense, piercing way he was looking at her was making her incredibly nervous. And not in a bad way, which was even more nerve-wreaking. So, it should've been a good thing. It should've made her feel better, more in control… instead, it made his scent rise up around her, and she felt dizzy under the sheer sexuality of it.

She was still a little intoxicated when she heard him whisper: "Leather looks good on you."

There was such implication, such potential in the way he said that it made the fiercest of blushes erupt on her cheeks. She looked down, terribly embarrassed and at the same time, incredibly turned on, afraid she'd be able to read all that and more in her eyes. Which was why when his hand cupped her chin for the second time that night, she never knew he was so close until she looked up and his lips found hers.

Her first thought was 'what is he doing?' closely followed by a stronger, louder 'oh my God'. Because his lips were so very, very soft, and his hand was warm against her face, and her eyes fluttered closed on their own accord as she leaned into the kiss. He kissed her gently, like one would kiss a flower, allowing her complete and total control. It was as if he knew she would bolt the second he pushed her; he gave her a wide open door through which to escape, and she took the door knob and slammed it shut.

As if in a dream, she let the coat fall down to her waist, releasing her hands just so she could run them through his hair. He made a low sound, encouraging her to continue, and after hesitating for a single moment, she did. His hair was thick, a mass of strawberry blonde waves that threatened to spill into her hands like silk. Ami wanted it to—she wanted to feel those strands, wanted to wrap herself around them and let them caress intimate parts of her until they made her scream. She wanted him, all of him, and the force of her desire scared her.

She was about to pull back, her fear mounting, when he did something with his fingers, a small caress of her jaw line that parted her lips ever so slightly. And then he was **really** kissing her.

It was a hot, wet kiss, the kind girls like Ami were not even supposed to know about, much less experience in a darkened library on a stormy winter night. Which was probably why she enjoyed it so much, and why she let him slowly push her back against her chair. Some small part of her brain that hadn't melted into a puddle of quivering need noted that it couldn't be comfortable for him, the way they were doing this, but couldn't really bring herself to do anything about it. Because to tell him would mean he'd have to stop, and if he stopped she didn't know what she would do.

Someone was making small, excited noises, and she realized with a start it was her. How much power did Zachary have over her, to reduce her to this? And why wasn't she pushing him away, like she should? As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, Zach chose that moment to do something especially delightful with his tongue, and Ami forgot all about everything. She faintly heard the clutter of pencils as they fell to the floor, but she was too busy enjoying herself to care. He was lifting her off the chair, moving her so her legs hit the desk and she sat on it by reflex. He followed her, coming to stand between her thighs, never once breaking off the kiss. Once, Ami would've wondered at the lack of oxygen this whole thing was causing to her lungs, but honestly, who needed oxygen anyway?

As something prodded at her backside, she realized she was sitting on – and making out on top of – her medical textbooks, and that was when reality had slammed down upon her. Her eyes flew open, and she caught their reflection on the window. The sight of him between her legs, her own half-lidded eyes looking back at her, was enough to shock her out of the pleasurable haze of Zach's kisses and planting a firm hand on his chest, she pushed.

To her surprise – and not small amount of regret, although she wasn't ready to admit it to anyone, least of all herself – he did not fight her at all. Instead, he planted one last, delicious kiss on her swollen lips and pulled back. He even stepped back from her, putting some distance between them, a motion that made Ami realize even further what they had almost done. Her face drained all of color, embarrassment more than anything else forcing her to close her legs with an almost audible snap. She smoothed down her clothes, even though Zach's hands had never once strayed from her waist, and wished the Earth would open up and swallow her whole. Honestly, where was Haruka and her World Shaking when you needed her?

Silence stretched on, pregnant with—she didn't even want to consider with what. Without looking at him, without looking at anything, she moved off the table, the last of her pencils rolling to the floor. She watched it tumble across the carpet and then disappear out of sight under the next table. Would Zach notice, she wondered, if she did the same thing? She rather thought he would, which is the only reason why she didn't crawl under the table to hide. One had to set some limits, after all.

"You taste like apricots."

Ami had thought she had been blushing up until then. Apparently, she had been mistaken. The suddenness of blood rushing to her cheeks was almost painful, and she found herself wishing her escapee pencil would return, just so she could have something to stab herself with. Was it possible to die from embarrassment? Because she was pretty sure she was about to do just that.

Without really knowing why, she looked up at him, and for the third time that night, Zachary surprised her. She had been expecting to see anger, perhaps annoyance, in his eyes. What guy, after all, would like to be stopped just when things were getting interesting? She had even expected him to accuse her, insult her and storm off in a flurry of self-importance, leaving her alone, embarrassed and oh so desperately excited. Instead, he just looked at her with clear, green eyes, not a touch of reproach in them, as if getting rebuffed by girls in the middle of making out was something that he did every day.

_Looking like that?,_ remarked a small part of her, the same part that was wondering if those dexterous fingers of his would be as agile on certain **other** parts of her anatomy, _yeah, right. _

The lack of recrimination in his gaze was enough to throw her off her feet again. Horny, lecherous male advances she could deal with. She was, after all, member of a group of super heroines whose uniforms included mini-skirts, knee high boots and stilettos. That kind of clothing attracted a certain kind of fan, and it had been early in their careers that the Senshi had learned to fend off unwanted courtships. But this? This calm, positively delightful demeanor, she did not understand. He seemed to be as content just being next to her as if he was still kissing her like there was no tomorrow… no, wait. That wasn't quite right. She caught a glimpse of something behind the deceptively serene surface of his eyes, a stirring of shadows that moved almost too quickly for her to catch. It was like the depths of a lake, a warm and wet lake, inviting her to surrender and just give in to what they both knew she had wanted ever since she had seen him smoking near the entrance barely two hours ago.

"Please", she began, struggling to speak through the lump of – desire? Fear? Who knew, at this point? – on the back of her throat, "I need to think."

_Please don't ask me about what_! She pleaded silently, and was instantly rewarded by her subconscious with a list of things she could actually spend her time thinking about, most of which involved Zachary and an alarming lack of clothes. Think? She needed to dunk herself in a bucket of ice water, preferably **right** now. Or she was going to do something that Minako would be insanely proud of, which would mean that she, Ami, was going to regret it tomorrow.

Zach chose that moment to answer her: "Sure, princess." Strangely, the nickname seemed more an endearment than a taunt, a far cry from their first conversation earlier that night. He seemed to shake himself, although he never really moved, and he flashed her a big, flirty smile. "After you're done, come find me."

She blinked. Find him? For what? She hadn't realized she had spoken out loud until he brushed a hand against her still flaming cheek and said: "To finish what we started."

Things low in her belly tightened instinctively, a primordial response to the very obvious implication in his words. She was still reeling from it when he leaned forward and kissed her one last time. It was all she could do not to moan when he did so, and her hand was halfway towards him before she stopped herself. He rose back up, all five feet and ten inches of him, and winked. And just like that, he was gone again.

If there was an extra butt shimmy in his step when he walked away, Ami chose not to comment on it. She did enjoy the view, though.

TBC...

* * *

P.S: I promise they get down and dirty eventually! It just took me about 13 pages of foreplay to finally get them to give in. Or Ami, actually: Zach was always willing and able. :-)


	3. Chapter 3

Title: _A Night at the Library _(Chapter 3)

Author: Lilian

Rating: NC-17 (yeah, it's smut) :-)

Disclaimer: Not mine. But I do think they are happier after I'm done playing with them.

* * *

It had been exactly one hour, three minutes and fifty seven seconds since he had left. Not that Ami was counting or anything. But if she had been – which she wasn't – she would've forced her gaze away from her watch and towards her empty notebook. Ami Mizuno did not pine away for anybody, especially not breath-stopping handsome young men who kissed like the devil and touched her like an angel.

Her hand tried to massage a kink on the back of her neck, and she steadfastly ignored the tiny voice in her head wondering what Zach's massages would feel like. Because she had no business wondering anything that involved Zach's hands, or any other part of his fit, tight, deliciously packed body. She hadn't really touched anything except his face, but there was a certain—presence to him that spoke of tightly controlled power. Not brute, massive power like, say, Mako's boyfriend Nathan, had but a different kind of energy. Finely sharpened edges, like a stiletto blade of sorts. Would she scream, she mused, if he turned all of that intense focus on her?

With a slow, deliberate blink, she realized that she already knew the answer to that question. And there had been no screaming involved, if she recalled correctly, just some heavy panting and a moan or two. Or fourteen, but again, she wasn't counting.

"This is ridiculous", she told herself, letting the pencil fall from her hand and abandoning all pretense of study. Truth to be told, she had been staring at the same page of her book for the past fifteen minutes or so, and she **still** had no clue what it was about. She sighed in defeat. Her eyes skittered atop the word-heavy pages and danced towards the windows instead. Outside, the storm had calmed down—the wind gusts were gone, but they had left behind a thick curtain of snow that kept on falling. With a last lingering look to her book, she stood up and walked up to the window, pressing her feverish forehead against the cold glass.

What had happened to her quiet, uncomplicated life? How was it that she suddenly found herself in a position where she was being offered—what? A one night stand? A wild, desperate romp against a stack of bookshelves? _A chance of being banned for life from ever entering the library again, that's what it is_, remarked a snide part of her. But she wasn't really listening, because the mental image of that particular romp was eating all of her brain space at the moment.

Even the chilled glass seemed a bit warmer as she stepped back from it, the adrenaline rush strong enough to make the sound of her heartbeat echo in her ears. Fingernails drumming against her skirt, she took a step towards the hallway, stopped, turned, and stopped again. What was she doing?

The memory of the kiss shattered through her precariously erected barriers and forced a gasp from her lips. Heat flooded through her, a wave of warmth that made her belly butterflies flap even faster than they previously were. It had been a really, really good kiss, Ami thought absently brushing her fingers against her mouth, as if hoping to catch Zachary still there. It had been great, actually; it was the kind of kiss you compared every other kiss to.

Ami frowned. "So, what? Are you saying he has spoiled me for everyone else?"

_We are not complaining_, was the answer she got. She knew she was talking to herself, but truth to be told, she did seem to be suffering from a case of split personality tonight. There was a distinct, very vocal part of her that was demanding to know why they weren't taking Zach up on his offer, and it was a side of herself Ami had never really met before.

She cast a look at the darkened hallway. The light from her study lamp ended a few inches before bookshelves began lining the walls. Ami knew the layout of the library by heart—she would definitely not bump into anything if she chose to walk through them. Not that she was going to, of course, because she was not going anywhere. No sir, she was going to sit down and start studying again.

Any minute now.

Really.

"_Come find me when you're done."_

His voice rose around her, evoking another very physical, this-is-not-supposed-to-be-happening-to-me response. Ok, she decided: it was time to stop screwing around and look at this problem logically. She was good at logic games, wasn't she? She could totally solve this one.

Fact 1: Zach was a very, very handsome man. Who had – in more ways than one – demonstrated a certain level of attraction towards her.

Fact 2: She had reciprocated that attraction in the way of a steamy, wet, hot kiss that even now was making her weak in the knees.

Fact 3: He had promised her more.

Question: Did she want it?

She wanted—she didn't know what she wanted. No, wait, she totally did. She wanted to go up to Zachary and kiss him like he had never been kissed before. He wanted to rob him of breath, thought and will, wanted him to touch her and move her until the world spun away from her. She wanted… she wanted him. It was as simple as that. And until she did something about it, it seemed, her treacherous body was not letting it go.

And really, was it such a bad thing? She was a healthy young woman with needs, after all. It didn't get much better than Zach, after all… plus, it couldn't be healthy holding off like this. She could swear she had read somewhere that denying yourself only resulted in painful and excruciating nun-hood. Or maybe she was channeling Minako, who could tell at this point.

She was already walking down the hall and towards the back of the library by the time she realized what she was doing. And by then, the idea of turning back seemed a little silly – no sense on changing her mind now – so she braced herself and just kept on going.

The corridors around the bookshelves were carpeted, and the fabric muffled her steps as she walked. The entire library was engulfed in darkness, and with the silent snow falling outside, it was the perfect setting for what Ami had decided to do. Making her way around the staircase, she left the book-section behind and moved into the realm of journals and editorials. Her heart was beating loudly in her chest, like a trapped hummingbird singing against her breast. And she had no idea where she was going, except that somehow, she totally did. There seemed to be a call pulling her in the right direction, quietly drawing her forward.

And then there he was.

He sat several feet away from her, one long, jean-clad leg propped against the chair next to him. The glasses were back on – just where did he keep those anyway? – and he appeared to be completely immersed in the book he was reading. He also looked like sin, Ami decided, sexily sprawled like that. She suddenly wanted to crawl all over him, take those glasses off and watch those cat-eyes glaze over in pleasure. She wanted him as out of control as he made her, wanted him struggling for words, gasping for breath—wanted him loose. She absently licked her lips, leaning her body against the cool steel surface of the shelf right next to her. She remained in the shadows, content to watch him as he had once watched her, taking everything in.

There was a stray curl of hair next to his cheek, she noted, and her hands itched to brush it away. Or better yet, to release that hair from its bindings, to feel it cascade down as she brushed her lips against his. She wanted to sit on his lap as she did so, looking down at him as he realized she was really going to do this. The intensity of her fantasy was so strong it forced a small sound out of her, but it was enough to catch his attention.

He looked up slowly, almost lazily, as if he had known she was there all along. And Ami's heart skipped a beat at the hunger in his eyes. Had he really been waiting for her all this time? For some reason, the thought made her go weak in the knees, so much so she had to hold on the shelf for support. She had no doubt he could see her perfectly, even cast in darkness as she was… maybe they really **were** cat-eyes, she mused. She wouldn't put it past him, at this point—as a matter of fact, it would explain a lot, specially the way he seemed to ooze sensuality out of every pore. Or maybe she was just that horny, who the hell cared.

The sight of those sharp eyes, however, made the fantasy she had just been indulging in vanish in a puff of smoke. All of her insecurities and fears returned with a bang, inundating her mind and almost making her turn around and run away.

Almost.

Because before her brain could actually connect with her body and do anything at all, he rose from the chair and approached. The desk light behind him illuminated him in this halo of golden light, and Ami almost saw some sort of symbol flicker high on his forehead, but then he was so close she couldn't see the light at all. Not that she really minded, she decided as he softly pushed her back against the bookshelf, his body completely meshed against hers. He was tall enough that she had to tilt her head back to really look at him, and even in the semi-darkness that surrounded them, Ami could see the sparkle of his green eyes. She was breathing heavily, she noted, and he hadn't even done anything yet. But maybe that was what had her so excited—the anticipation of it all.

"I missed you," he whispered, his breath brushing against the delicate shell of her ear. It made her shiver, creating all kinds of delicious friction between their bodies. She tried to say something, but it seemed as if her entire central nervous system had short circuited—for the life of her she couldn't even speak a word. She could feel him smiling as he bent to softly tug at her earlobe with his teeth: "Did you miss me?"

Battle fought and lost against the delicious tingle that moved from every part of her at once, she settled for a small nod, because honestly, what else could she do? She **had** missed him, she realized with a start as he continued his explorations, short kisses and nips against the sensitive skin of her neck, although before tonight they hadn't really met at all.

_Or had they? _

The thought was fleeting and alien, gone before she could even assimilate it at all. And then Zach cradled her face in his hands, and every single rational thought was obliterated from her mind.

"Good", he muttered, scant inches away from her lips, before kissing her again. Ami melted against him, her lips parting as his tongue gently asked for entrance. How could she deny him? He sought her, claimed her, owned her— he kissed her like the world was falling around them, desperate and urgent and feverish, and for some reason she couldn't even fathom she liked it. Liked that he didn't treat her like glass, that he didn't think she'd break. Somehow, he knew she could handle it, knew she wanted it, and it made her blood burn with want. No one had ever treated her like that, like she was strong and confident and dependable, at least no one outside of her small circle of friends. But he was.

Ami reached up, caught the elastic band holding his hair together and pulled. It came free surprisingly easy, and she found herself engulfed in strawberry blond waves of silk, and by Serenity if it didn't almost undo her. He grunted, a low sound of approval, and his arms embraced her all around. One hand coming to rest against the small of her back – and dear Gods, she arched against it like a cat in heat – the other one reaching down and pulling her up. She half-sat, half-lifted off the shelf, her legs opening up to allow him access between them. Before she knew it, her thighs were hugging his, and he was fiddling with the buttons of her blouse.

Instead of stopping him, she leaned back as much as she could – which, considering he was almost on top of her and she was pressed against a completely vertical surface, wasn't much at all – and let him do the work. He looked—he looked wild with his hair like that, a golden nimbus around his face. A fallen angel, maybe, although no angel she had ever seen would be as fascinated with the curve of her breasts as her blouse finally came open. A sudden attack of bashfulness hit her; it seemed her prudishness was not going down without a fight. He caught the tension that rippled through her body – how could he not, pressed as intimately as he was against her? – and cast her a solemn glance: "Do you want to stop?"

He looked so serious, Ami mused, even with his own shirt all mussed up. And so vulnerable, she realized, even though it was painfully obvious he was the one in control. No, that wasn't quite right. She wouldn't know the first thing to do in a situation like this, so she was letting him guide her… but one word out of her, one protest and he would stop, unwilling to take this further than she was willing to. For some reason it brought tears to her eyes, and taking his hand in hers, she squeezed reassuringly.

"No", was as far as she got before his lips were crushing hers in a fierce kiss. She shifted closer to him, bringing them as close as two people could be while still wearing clothes, and found he was just as happy to be there as she was. The feel of him so close – and yet not close enough, never enough – emboldened her, and her fingers found their way under the fabric of his shirt. The hard, defined planes of his chest were warm, so very, very warm as she trailed indistinctive patterns upon them that she almost missed the swell of his nipple. But when her fingertips brushed against it, he grunted, a sound so male, so sensual, that she did it again just to hear him make it once more.

He mimicked her movements, his own fingers, long and elegant, flicking the sides of her breast and she threw her head back, narrowly missing the steel shelf behind her. It was all the permission he needed, it seemed, because the next thing she knew, he was doing something behind her back and her bra was floating down and away from her body. Through narrowed eyes Ami watched him, pleasure drawing every breath, every touch out to seem like a thousand, and making it impossible to do anything but enjoy herself.

"So beautiful", she heard him say, and then he was licking her left nipple in long, slow strokes that made her fingers clench against his shoulders. She moaned, hands reaching down, seeking something. She found it in the belt of his pants, unbuckling it and undoing the button under it without hesitating.

It was hard concentrating on anything but the feel of his fingers, his lips, his tongue on her breasts – or, supplied another part of her, the slight, albeit extremely delightful grinding of his pelvis against hers – but she somehow managed. Her own fingers slipped below his belt, under the briefs he wore, and just like that, he froze still. Ami, on the other hand, found all kinds of things to do, causing grunt after moan to fall from his lips. Forehead resting against that sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder, she heard him whisper: "God, yes, don't stop."

And there it was, the loss of control Ami wanted. Afterwards, it was a scramble of hands, clothes and rolling on a condom, and Ami cried out as he entered her.

It should've been uncomfortable—she would ache the next day from the hard edges of the shelf pushing against her, and there was no way he could've held both of them up like he was doing. But it wasn't, and he did, and nothing mattered anymore, Ami thought as she held on to him with everything she had. She buried her face on his neck, moaning once, twice, three times when he reached deep inside her, and faintly heard him whisper something against her skin. It was lost to her as the very world exploded around her, a vortex of sound and color and pleasure whisking her away. He cried out as well, a hoarse, throaty sound that joined hers, and then Ami knew nothing at all for a while.

When she came to, she was cradled against him on the floor, still between bookshelves. His back leaning against Biomedical Research, Ga to Ho, noted a still functioning part of her brain, and he held her tightly, lazy smile curling his lips. As she watched him watch her, she wondered if she shouldn't be feeling extremely embarrassed right about now, and she braced for the weight of shame to fall… except it never did. Instead, she felt her own lips curl in an answering smile of their own, and when he leaned down to place a soft kiss on her mouth, she met him halfway.

His coat – which, last she remembered was still at her own desk, half a floor away – sheltered them from the cool floor, and he silently handed her his shirt when the first of the goose bumps tingled across her skin. But she wasn't cold; it was entirely different sort of goose bumps, caused not by the frost now adorning the windows, but by the sight of his naked chest. It was quite the delectable chest, she decided, one coral-tipped fingernail caressing it and watching his nipples respond. She snuggled deeper against him, and heard rather than saw the smile in his voice: "You know, we still have another couple of hours at least before anyone comes looking for us."

Ami smirked wickedly. Indeed, many hours before they were disturbed. Now, what were they to do about that? Giving in to her fantasy – because, she had to admit it, she wasn't going to die without doing it at least once – she shifted in his lap and straddled him. There was the cutest expression on his face when he looked at him, half-surprise half-delight at her bold move.

"And what do you propose we do about it?" she asked him, raising one teasing eyebrow. When his hands found her waist, she undulated once against him, feeling his body vibrate under hers.

"Oh, I can think of a thing or two", he replied, and proceeded to show her just what he had in mind.

The End. :-)


End file.
